“Um, first of all, don’t you dare talk about my friend that way,” Andi said. “And second of all, where are you, where should I meet you, and how much alcohol should I bring?”

Eliza closed her eyes, her chest squeezing tight. She loved her friends more than life. “I’m home. I need food more than liquor. Can Hollyn come, too?”

“I’ll check,” Andi said, all business now. “Either way, I’ll be there soon with carbs.”

“I love you.”

“Same, girl, same. Sit tight.”

Less than an hour later, Andi and Hollyn were on her doorstep. Hollyn lifted a takeout bag, her cheek twitching from a facial tic. “I brought chips, queso, and tacos.”

Andi had a Tupperware container and a grocery bag. “And I brought Hill’s fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, a gallon of ice cream, and a big-ass bottle of hot fudge. There’s also tequila if things take a turn.”

Eliza stared at her two friends and then burst into tears.

“Oh, honey,” Hollyn said, rushing forward and putting an arm around her. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Andi took all the food and shut the door behind them. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ve got her,” Hollyn said, guiding Eliza to the couch.

Mabel trotted behind Andi and the scent of tacos. Eliza let Hollyn lead her to the couch. She sat down in a heap, sniffling like a little kid.God, she hated crying.

Hollyn gently rubbed her back, supporting Eliza in that quiet, solid way she had.

Andi was back a minute later. She sat on the chair next to the couch, handed Eliza a cookie and a tissue, and then said, “Who did this to you, and how slowly should we murder them?”

That made Eliza laugh, a choked snort-cry sound, and she took the cookie. “Shouldn’t we have dinner first?”

“Oh no,” Hollyn said. “With crying like this, cookies first is the protocol.”

Eliza dabbed her eyes with the tissue, already feeling a little better now that her friends were here. “There’s no one to murder. I’m the asshole.” She took a big bite of the cookie and kept talking, the words coming out more garbled. “And I’m going to die alone because I don’t fall in love with real people. I fall in love with the idea of a person and then use them for my own selfish purposes.”

Andi gave her a patient but pointed look. “You’re not going to die alone. You have us. We are going toGolden Girlsthe shit out of our future decades whether there are dudes in our lives or not. That’s already decided. But what the hell are you talking about? Who did you fall in love with and use? Is this about that guy Will?”

“No,” she said miserably. “Beckham.”

“Wait,what?” Andi said, looking altogether confused. “You’re in love withBeckham?”

“Wasn’t he supposed to be helping you meet guys?” Hollyn asked.

Eliza wiped her nose with the tissue. “No, I’m in love with theidea of him—as he so harshly pointed out.”

“What does that even mean?” Andi asked. “And when did you have time to fall in love with him—or the idea of him?”

“We’ve been sleeping together for months.”

“Oh. Wow.” Andi nodded as if impressed. “Nice.”

“No, not nice. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea,” Eliza declared between aggressive bites of cookie.

Hollyn and Andi exchanged a look. Andi arched an eyebrow. Hollyn bit down on what looked to be an almost smile.

Eliza glanced between the two of them. “What? What is that look for?”

“No look,” Hollyn said, but her nose wrinkled and her cheek twitched, giving her away. Her Tourette’s did not make for a successful liar.

Andi flicked her dark-red bangs away from her forehead. “It’s nothing. It’s just…I’m thinking this is less about theideaof a guy and more about, you know, the actual guy. I haven’t ever seen you this distressed about…anyone. Usually you just tell colorful stories about the bad dates. The dominant emotion is usually annoyance, not tears.”